


Moving Faster

by wonderminterplus



Category: Turbo FAST
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1492444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderminterplus/pseuds/wonderminterplus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human! Au , Turbo is a famous racer who had been involved in a crash on the track that very nearly took his life. His body is now mostly healed but before he can get behind the wheel again he needs to take some group counseling.</p><p>Hardcase is a racer. A bad boy on and off the track. He too has been in a crash. But no amount of counseling may get him behind the wheel again. </p><p>And though these two don't get along, they may be on a collision course into finding out that their the best thing for one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Room B was fairly sparse compared to the rest of the physical therapy center. Turbo had spent most of his time in the gym filled with equipment to help him strengthen the muscles that had fallen into weakness during his recovery in the burn ward. 

He was just lucky that most of the burns had not scarred his face. When he looked in the mirror these days his blue eyed and short, brown haired self stared back at him without scratches of scar. His shoulders and back were dotted with a few splotches and he would be sensitive about them for some time to come. But he was glad he could cover them up.

Other then that he really he was improving. He could now move about with one crutch, unaided. Even so his walking speed was not what it usually was. Every step was agonizingly slow to him. Moving so slow was not something Turbo enjoyed. Ever since he could remember Turbo had been obsessed with racing around and being involved in high adrenaline activities. His brother, Chet, could tell so many stories of stupid stunts Turbo had done. Such as the great hang glide off the roof of the house escapade. He had really thought the kite would make a good hang glider.

Poor Chet. The crash at the race was just one more accident to play over and over in his head. Turbo himself didn't remember too much about the crash to be honest. Only that the barrier came up too fast. And at some point Chet was standing over him, screaming his name and tears in his eyes. Turbo had thought then that he truly was going to die.

Turbo was brought out of his thoughts by a voice calling out to him.

“Excuse me sir. But I assume you’re here for the group counseling session.” a man with a clipboard asked.

“Oh, didn’t see you there.Yes I’m here for the group counseling. I’m Turbo.” Turbo said.

The man glanced at the clipboard a moment and frowned slightly.

“I don’t see a Turbo here. I have a Theo but-”

“That’s me. I must have signed up while on those pain drugs. I mean Theo is, or rather was, my name. I prefer Turbo actually,If you could call me that in the future-” Turbo started to say.

“Not a problem. I’ll make a note of it. For the moment take any seat. Right now it’s only you and another patient. The rest of the group should be here soon.” the consoler said.

“Thank you.” Turbo said as he stepped over to the circle of chairs.

That was when he noticed the other guy. The other person in the room was tall. Turbo could tell even though he was sitting down. He also had an aura of toughness. As if he could take on five people at once. His choice of dark green clothing help add to the aura.

There was almost a glow to the mans eyes. That could had been from the tint of his yellow tinted glasses. His teeth seemed a bit on the strange side too. Like they’ve been filed into points. Not that Turbo had never heard of people doing that to their teeth and he wasn’t one to normally judge. Still he couldn’t help but wonder things about the teeth such as what would happen if he accidently bit his tongue with them?

 

The man was fiddling with his cell phone. Perhaps fiddling was not the right word. Rather he was tapping the screen hard. Turbo could hear the tapping from where he stood.

“Ugh! Stupid phone!” the man grunted.

He shook the phone violently as if that would make it work. It didn’t given the way the man scowled when he stopped shaking it. Turbo took the a seat next to the man. At first the man didn't even look up at Turbo. He was far too involved with his phone. Turbo couldn’t help but take a glance at the phone. The screen was dark and not responding to the mans tapping.

Turbo decided now was a good time to be helpful. 

“Did you try pressing the on button?” Turbo asked.

The taller man snorted in derision. But then he paused a moment. Obviously he thought about it and tried Turbo’s suggestion. The screen came to life, showing a background of a deep orange and black motorcycle as the screen background.

“You have got to be kidding me.” the man said to himself with a hint of disappointment in himself.

“Happens to all of us. Don’t worry about it. I’m Turbo by the way.” Turbo greeted, offering a hand to shake.

The man looked to the hand then looked back at Turbo. He spoke without shaking Turbos hand.

“I’m Hardcase. And Yeah, I know who you are. I’ve seen you on t.v before.” the man grunted.

“Oh well, yeah. Winning the indy five hundred and all. You a fan?” Turbo asked, hand still offered.

Hardcase snorted again, this time with even more disdain.

“Hardy.I don’t think you’re that great.” Hardcase said. “In fact I think you suck.”


	2. Chapter 2

That hadn’t been what Turbo expected to hear. At the very least he had expected to hear neutral words. But the tone the taller man had spoke of a hostility directed at him. It made him pull back the hand he had offered to shake.

“Is there a particular reason why you think I suck?” Turbo asked, a curious look on his face.

Hardcase rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“For starters everyone is always talking about how you’re the fastest racer ever. That’s all I ever hear. Doesn’t help that I see your face on everything. Sellout much?” Hardcase asked.

Turbo frowned a moment.

“So basically you’re jealous.” Turbo said.

“I am not!” Hardcase snapped a little too quickly. “I’m just sick of seeing you’re stupid face. Last time i got into a fight someone hit me with a sidewalk sign that had your face on it.” 

It slowly dawned on Turbo that Hardcase was not exactly the most model of citizens. Something about the way he spoke about fights so off handedly and generally spoke were signs of that. And though clothes didn’t always make the man, his attire suggested someone trying to look tough.

Thinking on it, he realised he recognized some of the patches on the left arm of the jacket. Particularly the tiger shaped one. 

“Wait, I think I know you.” Turbo said.

“Whoop de doo.” Hardcase grumbled.

“You’re that one racer who’s been in the news before. And not for very nice things either.” Turbo said.

Hardcase shrugged, not looking bothered at all by Turbo’s description of him. If anything the slight smirk suggested he was proud.

“What can I say? I’m a bad boy.” Hardcase said.

“A bad boy that gets the racing federation fined all the time. I honestly don’t know where you get off thinking thats okay.” Turbo said.

Hardcase laughed a deep, guttural laugh and crossed his arms before speaking.

“And I don’t know where you got the idea that I care what you think.” Hardcase 

“Well, that much is clear. Tell me, how do you manage to not get arrested when you cause so much trouble?” Turbo asked.

“Never said I never got arrested. I’m just able to pay bail easily.” Hardcase said. “Now how about you go be peppy somewhere else? Like another continent.” Hardcase snapped.

“Oh yeah? How about you go somewhere else too. Like uhh… another planet? Which I wouldn’t go to afterward and see your face again.”

Hardcase rolled his eyes. Turbo had to admit that wasn’t the best comeback. 

“Yeah, well… who said you were invited to my planet in the first place?” Hardcase said.

The conversation spiraled down from there. To the point where both were yelling at each other. Given Hardcase’s clenched fists it looked as if violence was about to erupt. Thankfully the twos raised voices attracted attention from the counselor who had just entered the room.

“Is something wrong here?” the counselor asked.

“Just this jerk being a jerk.” Turbo said, eyes still fixed on Hardcase.

“Is that your best insult? Here’s one for you. You’re a-”

“Oh look, everyone else is here!” the counselor said loudly. 

He didn’t give Turbo and Hardcase time to continue their argument as he ushered in the rest of the group to their seats. Turbo made a point of changing his seat before any of the other seats further away from Hardcase were taken.

Hardcase leaned back into his chair and continued to glare at Turbo

 

They still gave each other dirty looks time to time. The counselor made a good show of ignoring them while wandering into their line of sight as a subtle way to tell them to knock it off. This usually lead to Hardcase grumbling something under his breath.

After all that, Turbo couldn’t really blame the counselor for lingering on a few other patients rather than get to Hardcase or Turbo quickly. Eventually though the counselor spoke to Hardcase. 

“Do you wish to share anything tonight Hardcase? You’ve said relatively little since you’ve come here and quite frankly I’m a bit concerned.”

His arms were still folded in a defensive posture, though his voice was slightly less hostile than it had been when he had spoken to Turbo.

“No. I have nothing to share.” he said eveningly.

The counselor’s mouth set into a straight line as he glanced down to his clipboard.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Hardcase said nothing. There was no further challenge from the counselor and he moved on to Turbo. 

 

The parking lot of the therapy center was mostly empty by time Hardcase got to it. It was as he hoped it would be. He didn’t need an audience right now. Not when he was about to go through his own personal trial in a moment.

In truth he hated the consoling group. Why he would want to tell anyone about just how bad he was doing? That he was at his weakest. It just seemed like the worst thing in the world for him. Yet the doctors had suggested the idea after he told them about the nightmares.

His own crash still stuck in his mind. No matter how many times he tried to just wave it away the memory persisted. Like a splinter in his brain. Non Removable and unable to ignore.

Tires screeching sounded like pained screams, sparks as his car grazed the side of the concrete of the turn before he smashed into the back of another car. The driver of the other car had survived as well thank goodness. He did not need a death to add to his worries.

No one had called out his name. Oh sure people were concerned and worked quickly to save him from the wreck and get him medical care. But there was also the lack of anyone who really knew him there.

The whole thing had been very unemotional. And that stuck with Hardcase more than he would like to admit. All his recovery time so far he had pondered if anyone actually was happy he survived. 

He was alive yet he wasn’t happy. That thought was terrifying to him and he tried to shove the thought aside., only to have it pop up again in the night after a terror fueled nightmare. Which was why he had taken to hanging out with some old buddies come the night. Only at places he could walk to or get a ride to though.

He had tried to get back in a car months ago. It wasn’t even a race car. Just a everyday car that’s main function was just to get the rider from place A to place B. Simple and safer than racing at high speeds.

Even so Hardcase was anxious. Just like he was with every vehicle these days. So much so he had not truly driven for about a year now. Not since the accident. His car hadn’t left the parking lot since then either. 

Hopefully tonight would not be another walking home night.

Steeling himself he got into the car. That in itself was a feat for himself. Even harder was to close the car door. After the slam of the door closing made him jump a little, he allowed himself a few minutes to calm down. Drumming his fingers nervously on the dashboard he breathed deeply and slowly.

At first he thought he was doing fine. And hope was there for a moment. Then it was dashed as he carefully gripped the wheel. His fingers were already shaking even as he held onto it. They kept shaking even as he deluded himself a moment that he had this under control.

Then it hit. His heart started beating too fast. At least Hardcase was convinced it was. His doctor had told him that panic attacks could feel like that. At first the suggestion of panic attacks had seemed ridiculous to him when the doctor warned it was possible. Now he wasn’t laughing.

His breaths came out in quick gasps. Far too quick and soon Hardcase was a bit lightheaded. Even so he refused to let of the wheel just yet. Even if It felt just like when he was dying. That didn’t last long though as his pounding heart finally convinced he couldn’t do this. Hardcase let go of the wheel like it was on fire. His breaths came out ragged and for a moment he thought he was going to faint.

Somehow he was able to keep from blacking out and opened the door. He didn’t jump out just yet. Instead Hardcase leaned his face against the wheel, mentally and physically exhausted. Too drained to really even care if anyone did see him like this. Even if he felt like crying.

He didn’t care. Because it seemed no matter what he did he would never drive again.


End file.
